Page 103 of Knot Gonna Lie
Not a cell. Never a cell. A cage dressed as sanctuary.
“You’re awake.”
His voice carried from the corner—aged whiskey poured over ice, smooth and heavy at once. Alpha Zeke stepped out of shadows I hadn’t noticed, the afternoon’s marketplace charm transformed into something darker. Black fabric caught the light like oil across water, tailored power masking decades of loneliness.
He looked older now, in this careful light. Not aged—alphas rarely showed their years the way others did—but worn in places that spoke of battles fought in boardrooms rather than battlefields. Silver glinted at his temples. His eyes—amber, calculating—had watched too many years pass without an omega to soften them.
“I was beginning to worry my people had been too enthusiastic with the sedative.”
“You’ll pay for what you’ve done.” My voice felt like sand on my tongue, scratchy and dry.
“Water?” He gestured to a crystal pitcher on the bedside table, ignoring my comment. “The sedative dehydrates. You’ll have a headache soon if you don’t drink.”
I reached for the pitcher myself rather than let him serve me. The water was clean, untainted, but the way he studied me while I drank made my skin crawl.
“Your betas fought well.” He settled into a chair near the bed, maintaining distance that felt deliberate. “Stella broke two of my guards’ ribs before we subdued her. Maia dislocated another’s shoulder with a move I haven’t seen since the war. You’ve surrounded yourself with warriors disguised as companions.”
“Are they—”
“Unharmed. Furious. No doubt alerting your clan.” His mouth curved. “I’d estimate you have perhaps an hour before your alpha arrives, breathing fire and promising violence. Less if he’s as clever as his identity theft suggests.”
The casual mention of Luca’s crime stole my breath. Zeke noticed—of course he noticed—and his smile sharpened into something more predatory.
“Did you think I wouldn’t investigate the alpha who caused such delicious chaos at Syzygy Station? Stealing his brother’s identity to claim an omega.” He leaned forward, elbows rested on his knees, studying me like a particularly fascinating puzzle. “Rule-breakers intrigue me, little omega. They suggest possibility in a universe that’s become far too predictable.”
I stood, silk robe slipping around me like borrowed armor. “Why am I here?”
“Because I need what you represent.” He rose too, height reasserted. “Access. Hope. A chance at what I’ve been denied for thirty years.”
Thirty years. The number hung between us, weighted with loneliness that even his careful control couldn’t entirely mask. An alpha without an omega for three decades—no wonder he radiated that particular combination of power and desperation.
“You could have registered at the station. Entered the lottery like—”
His laugh cut through my words. “The lottery. Submitting myself to gamma committees deciding whether I’m ‘suitable?’ They fear me. Fear what I built. Fear an alpha who never knelt.” He moved to the balcony, gazing out at his empire glowing violet in the dusk. “They would never approve my application. Never.”
Loneliness laced his voice, a raw note that almost drew pity. Almost. But beneath my skin, the bond throbbed with Luca’s rage, Seth’s precision, Jaxom’s quiet fury.
They were coming.
“My pack will come for me.” I held his gaze, steady. “You must know that.”
“I’m counting on it, little omega.” He turned from the window, and something in his expression shifted— calculationreplacing the momentary crack in his armor. “Your alpha has something I need. His company, his connections. He’s been ignoring my communications for months, too focused on other things to see the opportunity I’m offering.”
“You took me to force him.”
“To open negotiations.” He approached slowly, each step measured. “I don’t want you, Elara. Beautiful as you are, claimed as you are, you belong to another pack. But what you’ve achieved—finding an alpha breaking rules to claim you, with a clan that operates like the old families but with modern sensibilities—that gives me hope.”
He stopped just outside my personal space, close enough that his scent—exotic spices and loneliness—wound around me without touching.
“There are omegas out there who would choose me, if given the chance. Who would see past the reputation to the man who’s spent thirty years building paradise for pairs like yours. I need your alpha’s help to reach them. Legal channels. Legitimate opportunities. A chance to finally fill this empty palace with the laughter it was built to hold.”
Through the mark, I felt it—pack-rage building like a storm. Luca’s fury, Seth’s clinical planning, Jaxom’s calculated violence. They were coming. My pack were hunting, and Alpha Zeke had minutes, not an hour.
“You could have asked,” I said, voice steady despite the ache inside. “Could have approached us without the theatrics. We own a villa on your planet… it’s not like we could hide.”
“Would he have listened? A newly mated alpha, drunk on his omega’s scent, suspicious of any unmated male who might pose a threat?” His smile curved, weary. “Sometimes, little omega, the only way to get a man’s attention is to take something he values. He’ll listen now. He’ll negotiate now. And perhaps, if I’m verylucky, he’ll help me find what you’ve already claimed—a chance at being chosen.”
The door exploded inward before I could respond.
